


The Joker Plays

by angwe



Series: Tick ... Tock ... Bat ... Clock [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angwe/pseuds/angwe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Joker finds an automaton to pass the time with while he waits for Dr. Vries's analysis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Joker Plays

Tick. Step along. Tock. Lightly now. Tick. Break stride. Tock. Exactly in time. Tick. And launch your attack. Tock. A blade flashes. Tick. Snick. Tock. Glock. Tick. Pull a trigger. Tock. Breaking a kneecap - tick - or two. Tock.

      Ti-tick.

      WHAT? To-tock. Ti-tick. To-tock.

      There’s precious blood - ti-tick - spilled here. To-tock. It keeps - ti-tick - the mechanism regular. To-tock.

      “You OK buddy?”

      Tick. A single eyebrow - tock - raises of its own accord. Tick. “Are you - tock - really asking - tick - that of a - tock - man holding a knife?”

      Tick. The idiot shuffles off. Tock. A snippet flies back. Tick. “Clock-mad, poor wretch.” Tock. Oh, I’m beyond clock - tick - mad, my ignorant friend - tock - but I’ll liberate you - tick - yet. And you’ll - tock - thank me for it. Tick. Speaking of liberation. Tock. Oh, right. Tick. Half-autonomous. Tock. Always a little - tick - disappointing. Tock. Extra effort - tick - to get beyond the - tock - pesky artificial mechanism - tick - that keeps them running. Tock. Not that the - tick - blade ever fails me - tock - when I need it. Tick.

      Tock.

      Tick.

      Wait, that idiot reset it. Tock. Stutter stopped. Tick. A stutter to begin with. Tock. Where did it come - tick - from, and why did - tock - that work. Tick. That never works. Tock. Never. Tick.

      Tock.

      The Bat?

      Tick.

      It’s with Freeze. Tock.

      Tick.

      Tock.

      Tick.

      Tock.

      Dear me, so many swings of the pendulum - tick - and so little to show for it. Tock. Slice into parietal cable - tick - and strip insulation. Tock. Time to find out. Tick. They always make - tock - such strange claims - tick - about the humanity of these - tock - half-breeds. Tick. Oh, there you are. Tock. Pocket five - tick - second item - tock - is the crank I need. Tick. Cleverly labeled you are - tock - my new pretty little pet - tick. A blue of this hue - tock - and a striped friend - tick - can only mean coming - tock - and going. Tick. And if they’re flipped - tock - well, that’ll be an amusingly - tick - nasty surprise. Tock. In, wrapped, locked down - tick - and out, wrapped, locked - tock. Crank. Tick. Faster. Tock. Faster. Tick. FASTER! Tock.

      Ah. Oh. Ah. Ah. Tick. A twitch. A scan. Tock. Eyes move. Lids trying to open. Tick. Yes. Do it. Tock. Open. Tick. Crank. Tock. Faster. Faster, faster! Tick. And we have - tock - contact.

      “Do you see it - tick - my dolly?”

      Tock.

      They move! Tick.

      “Can you see it flash?” Tock.

      They flash in response. Tick. Fear is alive. Tock. At the very least - tick - I’ve got a decent - tock - sense of terror going. Who knows - tick - if it lives in a primal - tock - reptilian center - tick - or further forward.

      “Let’s find out what else - tock - still lives.” Tick. Ooh, a red one. Tock. Where’s it’s partner? Tick. Curses! Tock. Strip more. Strip it down. Tick. Damn bones in the way. Tock. Carefully remove a chunk. Tick. Severed spinal column - tock - might prematurely end our fun. Tick. Incision one. Tock. Incision two. Ti-tick. WHAT?

      To-tock. No.

      Ti-tick. No no no no no.

      To-tock. Knife turning. Ti-tick. Keep it away - to-tock - from the toy. Ti-tick. Let it find solace - to-tock. Left lobe - ti-tick - two centimeters up. Ti-tick. Cartilage is - to-tock - disposable. Ti-tick. Never affects - to-tock - the damn implants. Ti-tick. The warm - to-tock - icy touch of the blade - ti-tick - entering and the wondrous - to-tock - pooling in all my crevices. Ti-tick. Further. To-tock. Take it off. Ti-tick. OFF. To-tock. No resistance. Ti-tick. Knicked the - to-tock - anti-tragus. Ti-tick. Oh well. More pools. Tock. Tick. Ah.

      Tick.

      Tock.

      Quickly now. Tick. Remove the notch. Tock. Strip the insulation. Tick. Ah, there’s the frayed one. Tock. Attach it to the reverberator. Tick. And away we go. Tock.

      Cross-wiring time. Tick. Open the cerebellum. Tock. No wires? Tick. Tock. Oh well. Maybe something in the - tick - ventral horn. Tock. Oh. Tick. What have we here? Tock. That’s an amplifier. Tick. I though it went down - tock - more stubbornly than usual. Tick. Let’s see what - tock - we can do with that. Tick. Tension wire. Tock. Ah, there you are. Tick. Reattach the black pair. Tock. Add in the reverberator. Tick. Now, where are my matches? Tock. Fifth pocket. Tick. Three items down. Tock. Strike. Apply gently to opened wrist. Tick. Tock. Ah, and now the nerves - tick - give off their signal. Tick. Activate the transmitter coil. Tock. Such expensive metal. Tick. I think I may scrap this one - tock - after my fun. Tick. Vries will take it. Tock.

      “How much of you is - tick - left, my toy? Tock. How much do you know? Tick. Do you feel the burn? Tock.”

      Turn the head. Tick.

      “I see my concussion - tock - bar hasn’t broken - tick - too much.”

      Ah, my friend - tock - the Glock Industries Nine - tick - hasn’t failed me. Ninety extra modalities - tick - of vibration are desperately - tock - unwanted by the fine mechanisms. Tick. But they manage to avoid - tock - breaking anything natural. Bones - tick - and cartilage continue to - tock - slide perfectly and the toy’s - tick - neck turns fluidly to face the - tock - match slowly boiling blood as it ekes out the myriad small wounds. Tick. And the eyes react so - tock - perfectly that I can see - tick - my incapacitating wounds - tock - were perfectly placed.

      “You know! Tick. I see it in your eyes. Tock. And feel it in your chest. Tick. But the regulators - tock - won’t let you react. Tick. Not the way you want to. Tock. My own doing - tick - my little toy. Tock. It won’t last long. Tick. I’m getting bored.”

      Tock. The eyes flash. Tick. Helpless. Tock. Almost pleading. Tick. I crank the vibration chamber up - tock - all the way. Vries is such a - tick - master at creating these things. Tock. Faster. Tick. Faster. The straining begins. Tock. The reverberator is acting perfectly. Tick. Amplifying the signals. Tock. Odd that there was nothing in the cerebellum. Tick. Oh, there would have just been - tock - a dampener for signal - tick - cleanliness. Tock. No need to overwhelm - tick - the coordination. Tock. Unless you’re me. Tick. The nerves are beginning to overstimulate. Tock. The mechanical components - tick - are straining agains the natural. Tock. Back up. Tick. Keep an eye on the reverberator. Tock. Enough spin left. Tick. Coming apart at the seams. Tock. The flesh begins to weaken. Tick. Even the guy-wires are fraying. Tock. Yes. Tick. Pop-pop-pop. Tock. A few joints break. The mouth soundlessly screams. Tick. Ooh, didn’t know that was still working. Tock. Oh, right, the cross-wire. Tick. Must have overwhelmed a central connector. Tock. And now the brain is leaking the lubricant and blood. Tick. Nerves are dissolving. Tock. The limbs twitch at the wrong angle. Tick. Suddenly it all stops. Tock. The whole system tearing itself apart. Tick. The stench is fantastically - tock - seductive and toxic. Tick. Strip out the coil. Tock. Begin to strip the spinal insulator out. Tick.

      “Who are you paying with that?”

      “Tock. Oh, no one you know - tick - in any criminal capacity - tock - yet, my Bat-love. Tick.”

      “Knock it off.”

      Tock. Maneuver my position. Tick. Adjust my weight, grabbing hold of the spinal insulator.

      “Tock. Why should I? Tick. I love to needle you. Tock. And I need a little time. Tick. To plan my escape. Tock.”

      “You’re not getting away.”

      “Tick. You’re talking between beats - tock - my caped friend. Tick. I worry about you. Tock.”

      “How’d you get out?”

      Tick. He’s shifted. Tock. Spin and leverage the counterweight - tock - of the body to keep balance - tick - and throw it his way - tock. Where I know he’ll be. Tick. I know him so well. Tock. He catches it and sets it aside. Tick. But I’m already on my way. Tock. I can hear him activating the - tick - obnoxious jump boots - tock - and I already know where he wants - tick - to cut me off. Tock. But I won’t be there. Tick. I double-back for my present - tock - from Vries. Tick. And drop through the false bottom - tock - of the furnace chute. Tick. No one sees the flames - tock - for what they are. Tick. Superficial. Tock. Relatively cool. Tick. I hold my breath. Tock. And drop into darkness. Tick. Lost a book of matches. Tock. Found my payment for Vries. Tick. Now, back to the stasis-man. Tock.


End file.
